Bill Jones: Playing hooky the AARP way

On Jan. 7, I played hooky from school, work and responsibilities for two hours. At least, it seemed that way at the time.

I took enough hooky time when I was in high school and a lot in college. That is probably why I barely graduated from high school and flunked out of college my freshman year.

But, oh my, how good it felt. "Yes indeedy doody," as Keith Jackson would say. I was at the Dunes parking lot in Pebble Beach with the AARP stand-up paddleboarding posse team watching the waves and no one was out. Doc Waddel, Frank, Wayne and I went out.

It was an almost flawless day with high clouds, a sunny sky, a very slight wind, smooth faces to the waves with a head-high wave and it looked as fun as the first roller we ever rode. For a while, we were the only surfers out and then we were joined by Sheriff Darrel and Firefighter Greg.

It seemed like the days of our adolescence when everything was carefree and we only had to wait for the next wave. We were all totally in the moment and had a grand go out for a couple of hours.

Several of the other lads related to the feeling of playing hooky as well. The feeling took me back when my high school buddies would know that there was a swell running at Huntington Beach and we would pool our money to buy a couple of bucks of gas that would get us to the beach and back.

Gas wars were in full vogue in the mid-1960s and the price would hit 18 to 20 cents a gallon at the cheapest stations. There were also the free glasses and coffee mugs that they gave you for a fill up of 8 gallons or more. My college apartments were stocked with gas war glasses and mugs.

I had a pretty cool car in high school and college, until I bought the ubiquitous Volkswagen bus for a surf vehicle. I had a 1956 Ford Parklane that was Ford's answer to the Chevy Nomad. It was a great car and in hindsight it would be worth a lot now, fully restored.

Most of us can relate to taking a day off from high school, besides senior ditch day. There were days in Southern California that the warm Santa Ana winds would blow and create offshore winds that held the waves up just a bit longer and made for an interesting entry to the wave and a great ride.

These Santa Ana wind days were fabulous because it blew the Los Angeles basin smog out to sea. The days were fresh and clean with a warm wind to help you appreciate being young, care free and able to play hooky.

In my senior year of high school, I moved from Southern California to a small town in Connecticut, near Long Island Sound. Having been kicked out of school on my first day for wearing inappropriate clothing, playing hooky and cutting school became an art form for me. I didn't think that a Dewey Weber competition T-shirt, blue jeans and black Converse shoes were a breach of the dress code. But when I walked into the building and saw fellows in coats, ties and suits, I knew I was in for an interesting year.

Playing hooky and going surfing meant an almost two-hour drive to Rhode Island, but I was pretty much my own crowd. Point Judith, Matunick and Misquamicut were my favorites and I was able to take several people with me who were interested in learning how to surf.

Being able to experience a fun day or a few hours of surfing as a retired adult is like playing hooky when you were in high school. The moment, feeling and experience of days lived long ago, means a lot when you can feel it again even if it is seen astern or in a rearview mirror.

Bill Jones is a surfer, diver, kayaker and stand-up paddle instructor who lives in Pacific Grove. He can be reached at bjones_surf@yahoo.com.